“Who else died?” Susan asked.
“Just a few months ago a woman stepped on something on the beach. No one ever really knew what, although her husband said it was some sort of jellyfish. Anyway, she had some sort of horrible allergic reaction, went into some sort of shock.”
“Anaphylactic shock,” Susan suggested.
“Maybe. All I know is she was dead before anyone could call a doctor. Scared the hell out of me. It was in all the papers. Perhaps you saw it up north? I know Lila was worried about bad publicity hurting us.”
“I didn’t see anything. Anyway, an allergic reaction is individual. Most people aren’t allergic to the same things. But is there anything else deadly around here? On the beach?”
“Well, many people step on black urchins. Happens more than you’d think. Their feet swell up something awful and they have a whole lot of pain for a day or two.”
“And then they die?” Susan asked.
“Nah, they get better. It’s no biggie. We can warn people, but we can’t get them to listen. We had a guy here from Maine last winter. He said he knew all about urchins-used to go out in the cove in front of his house, pick them up, smash them, and serve them over homemade pasta. Sounded disgusting to me, not that anyone asked. Anyway, we took out the kayaks, paddled over to a beach just south of here, and got out for a walk. Don’t say I didn’t warn him.”
“He stepped on one?” Susan guessed.
“Nope, two. But one at a time. Stepped on one with one foot and jumped up and stepped right onto another with the other foot. Who woulda thought it could happen like that? Both feet swelled up like pillows by the time we got back here. Last I saw of him, he was getting into a taxi, saying he’d be real glad to get back to the frozen north.”
“But no one else has been murdered here?” Susan asked.
“Not that I know of, but, I tell you, I only been here for three years. Things could have happened before I got here.” James shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Susan realized he was anxious to be on his way.
“You know, I’d enjoy going out in one of the kayaks again. Everyone else seems to be gone for a while.”
“Yeah, your husband and your friend went in to town to see that man who was arrested-at least, that’s what I heard,” James added quickly. “So you could paddle around for a bit on your own. Don’t go out too far. You be perfectly safe.”
“I don’t think I want to go out in the ocean alone,” Susan answered slowly. “But if you have the time, maybe we could go out together-just for a bit?”
James frowned and then glanced back over his shoulder. “I guess I could-just for a bit-but I gotta make sure I’m not needed here and-and all.”
“That would be fantastic. I’ll grab some sunscreen and be right with you. I don’t want to be gone long either, but it would be great to get away-just for a bit.” Susan repeated the phrase they seemed to have agreed on. She wasn’t actually interested in getting away alone. But Ro had said James was on the beach last night. He might have seen something that related to Allison’s murder. Susan grabbed a tube of sunscreen and dabbed a bit on her nose as she left the cottage.
James was standing just outside the open doorway of the gift shop, apparently talking to someone inside. Susan called out his name, and he turned and waved, a big smile on his face. “You go on down, ma’am. I come down presently.”
Susan waved, turned, and discovered herself face-to-face with a woman whose resemblance to a tubby Buddha was emphasized by the white flowing beach dress she wore.
“My dear, my husband and I have been looking for you. What a dreadful thing to happen. I was just telling Martin, this will just ruin your vacation.”
“It certainly isn’t improving it,” Susan admitted.
“This seems to be the morning for husbands and wives to get separated. Your husband was looking all over the place for you, too. Just a few minutes ago. And your friend, too. How sad it is that her husband was arrested. She looked distraught the last time I saw her, and I can’t say I blame her one bit. It’s bad enough when your husband falls for someone else on vacation, but to kill someone…”
“Jerry did not fall for Allison. They’ve…” She paused and decided not to say anything more than necessary. “They’ve known each other for years and years. And he certainly didn’t kill her. They-they’ve always gotten along well.” She paused for a minute, knowing that wasn’t true. Hadn’t June once told her that it was so much easier to celebrate the holidays at the Henshaws’ because everyone was much more polite when there were no family members present? At the time, Susan had assumed she was talking about the children. Certainly she was more confident that Chad and Chrissy would mind their manners at someone else’s home. But was it possible that June had meant the adults? Had Allison and Jerry gotten along? She noticed that the other woman was staring at her curiously.
“I’m sure this is all going to turn out to be a huge mistake and everything will be fine,” Susan insisted. “In fact, I’m so sure everything is going to be fine that I am going to go kayaking until everyone returns.” She hoped the smile on her face didn’t look as forced as it felt.
“Why, you brave thing! Why don’t my husband and I go along with you? We can keep you from becoming depressed. Let me just go find Martin. That man can vanish more quickly than anyone I know. My name’s Joann. I’ll just see if I can find my husband… but you call on me if you need anything. Anything at all.” Joann turned and moved away remarkably quickly for someone her size.
Susan took a deep breath and hurried down the steps to the beach where the kayaks waited. James was nowhere to be seen. She paced back and forth, watching out for anything with spines or gelatinous substances. Who would have suspected these gorgeous beaches could be dangerous-or even lethal? On the other hand, who would have imagined going on vacation and becoming a suspect in a murder investigation? She sat down on an upturned kayak and looked around. The stone wall behind her blocked her view of the resort’s buildings, so she turned and looked out to sea-and realized she had a sensational view of the spot where Allison had been found.
A Compass Bay beach towel was still draped across the lounge. Instead of the yellow police-line do-not-cross tape that would have been wound around the area in the States, here a bright red rope strung across the middle of the pier prevented the curious from getting too close to the crime scene. On the other hand…
As she watched, a head popped up out of the surf, looked around, and apparently spying her, ducked back down.
Susan jumped up and ran across the few feet to the water and waded in, trying to keep an eye on the underwater swimmer, but he-she was pretty sure it was a he-was impossible to spy beneath the lambent sunlight on the water.
“See something interesting, Mrs. Henshaw?”
Susan looked up and over her shoulder and discovered James striding down the stairs to the beach.
“Someone-there’s someone swimming out there-underwater.”
“Snorkeling?”
“Excuse me?”
“One of the guests snorkeling?” He paused in his descent and, shading his eyes with one hand, peered out to sea.
“Yes. I guess that’s who it was. I was surprised by how long whoever it was remained underwater.”
“Probably someone snorkeling and you didn’t see the tip of the snorkel above the water,” James said, putting down his hand and turning to Susan. “Good news. The Robbinses are going to kayak with us. The more people we have, the more fun we have,” he added without much enthusiasm.
“Can she-I mean-” Susan was too much of a lady to ask the question.
“Many of our larger guests do just fine on the sea kayaks,” James said, answering the question she hadn’t asked.
“I know the kayaks aren’t as unsteady as they appear. But I still have trouble getting on and off,” Susan said, chatting as though nothing untoward had happened. She was still staring out at the sea. “How long can someone stay underwater when they’re snorkeling?”